Island of Dreams
by Author Name Here
Summary: A documentary maker sets out to film the most important scientific movie ever. He and a hand picked team infiltrate Isla Sorna to determine all of it's deep, dark secrets.


**Chicago**

It was 3:44 a.m., and the only sound that occupied the large Chicago apartment was the spatter of rain against the windows. Low, rumbling thunder sounded off somewhere in the distance. A minute later, at 3:45 a.m., an alarm clock bleated out repeated beeps. It awoke nobody, however, as Quentin Bellamy never got around to actually falling asleep. He'd been far too excited for this morning - for his trip to finally begin. He'd sleep on the plane, he reassured himself. He stumbled over the crates he had spread out all across his floor and silenced the alarm clock.

His room was admittedly a mess, though it was usually clean. Quentin was the type of man who could never truly be ready until it was time to go, and so all of his clothes and equipment were set to be packed, but couldn't possibly be packed until the morning of his departure. He eagerly packed away the remainder of his cameras; his personal stock he'd kept at home. The rest of the cameras and their equipment were already being flown to Uvita, down in Costa Rica. From there, they'd be loaded onto trucks alongside all of the other equipment he'd rented out for the excursion, and ultimately loaded onto the Humboldt, a decommissioned Icebreaker ship used, among other things, bulk transport. The idea of all of this coming together at all was almost as exciting as the mission he was about to embark on.

Quentin finished packing away the rest of his clothes and miscellaneous gear. He glanced over at the clock; 3:58. He still had an hour and a half before he had to leave for the airport. To kill time, he sat down at his work desk and went over a final review of the team he'd put together. A pile of dossiers was neatly stacked on the left side of the large, dark oak desk. On the wall the desk was facing was an enormous map. It depicted a cratered island, cliffs on all sides. Various pins and sticky notes were attached across the entirety of it.

He opened the first dossier. It was for a woman named Heather Dunham; an experienced game warden out of Australia. She had a decorated career, she most notably helped track down and subdue a monstrously overgrown Razorback that was terrorizing both livestock and farmers for months. Heather was the first person he'd chosen to invite, and was the first person to accept. If there was ever a person meant to come along, he thought, it was her.

Underneath her folder was information on Dr. Leigh Hanson; an up and coming paleontologist that challenged notions such as the Tyrannosaur's front limbs being weak; which he believed were strong enough to help lift it off the ground when it woke up from sleeping. He also was firmly against all dinosaurs being feathered or covered in down. Leigh didn't follow scientific trends, he believed in what he thought was right- a quality that attracted Quentin to accompany him on this once in a lifetime opportunity.

The third and fourth dossiers were for Frances Gorman from Mayland, and Dan Nelson from California; animal control experts that excelled in their fields, albeit on opposite sides of the country. These folders contained,as did all of the folders, signed waivers, confidentiality agreements, proof of payment and general medical, criminal and professional information.

The fifth and final was for one Bram Carroll; an extremely wealthy collector of all things Dinosauria. Quentin didn't invite him, and didn't like the idea of him at all. He sometimes acted as benefactor for Dr. Hanson, and had heard of the excursion through him… although he didn't have any details as to the confidentiality agreement all participants had signed. Carroll hounded Quentin until he admitted the trip was, in some way, dinosaur related. He insisted he come along, and offered to help pay for extra equipment which would be extremely handy. Unlike the others, which were being paid handsomely for their help, Bram Carroll bought himself a ticket onto the trip.

Quentin was happy with himself in the way he'd invited his four choices along. He'd sent a vague letter to the both of them, merely asking if they were willing to witness what few human beings in history ever had. It was watermarked with a faint Tyrannosaur skull behind the text. He hoped it would invoke a sense of wonder, a quality he'd appreciated in people, and it did. He was set to meet his five companions in Uvita, and they would all travel together to meet up with the captain of the Humboldt, and then they would be off.

_Three years of planning and prepping, and the day is here. _

He couldn't contain his excitement.

In a rush, he packed up his map and files, and began bringing his luggage downstairs to the arriving taxi.

**Utiva**

It was mid-day, and a small, junker taxi plodded down a long winded Costa Rican road. The jungle to the right was vast, green and vibrant. To the left, the Pacific Ocean sat peacefully. The weather was warm, breezy and clear. The bumps in the road made the taxi buck up and down violently.

_The damn thing seems like it was going to fall apart before I even got in, _Leigh thought to himself, _it better not break down. I can't be late. _He reached for his phone in his pocket to check the time, and it wasn't there. He tried his other pocket - Nothing. A small sense of dread crept over him. Leigh grabbed his large backpack and sifted through every inch of it… this took a few minutes. No phone. He saw it in his head, sitting back at the small diner the taxi picked him up from. Leigh already missed the group meeting because his had been delayed. If he was any later, he'd miss the boat.

"Señor?"

The taxi driver responded with a glance in the mirror.

"Can we go back? Quickly? I left my phone! _teléfono_? Ahh, rapido espalda… um, restaraunte?"

The driver nodded, and spun the taxi around in a frighteningly sharp turn. Leigh disparaged himself the entire trip back. They arrived at the café once again, and asked the driver to wait while he dashed inside. Patrons were scattered around the interior, eating lunch, but there were no workers in sight.

"Ayudar!" he shouted. A moment later, the woman that served him his drink earlier emerged from the back. He motioned to her. "I'm sorry. I left my phone here, I need it… it's urgent."

"__teléfono__?" she asked, calmly.

"Sí, sí! _Teléfono___, here!" __

_The waitress calmly started to search around the back counter, opening drawers and pawing through them. Leigh carried himself as a man with manners, and he didn't want to rush somebody who was helping him. Still, she was taking her time. She held up a finger and went to the back. She was gone for what felt like minutes. Finally, she emerged and had his phone in hand._

_"Gracias!" He snatched the phone and hurried back to the taxi. He dished out three times what the fare was going to be to the driver. "Prisa!" he exclaimed, and the driver sped off. _

_Twenty minutes later, Leigh arrived at the dock. No boat was in sight. No Quentin Bellamy, nothing._

_He prayed that he somehow got there earlier than he meant to. Maybe he got the times mixed up or something? He called Quentin's phone, finally having service after being off the mountain road. There was no answer. _

_"_Señor Hanson?" a voice called out from behind him. He spun around to find one of the dock workers approaching him.

"Yes, Señor Hanson here!"

"Señor Bellamy and his crew have departed. They are already on their way. He said the captain would not wait any longer. He has paid for a smaller boat to take you to your destination." The man explained.

Leigh let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't miss this trip for anything. He followed the man to his new transport; a small fishing boat that looked about as rickety as the taxi he just got out of. The captain was a short, burly man named Modesto. He had a cheerful demeanor. Most likely because Quentin Bellamy paid him an insane amount, Leigh noted to himself. He loaded his things and readied for departure.

**Humboldt**

_The Humboldt was by no means a pretty ship. Its paint was peeling, rust formed on the lower portions of the guardrails, and it was just plain dirty. It used to be an icebreaker up in Canada until it became decommissioned for simply being obsolete. Fernando Cardenas bought it and transformed it into a transport ship, charging high price for sneaking fugitives, immigrants and so on in and out of countries. It was perfect for their needs on this journey._

_"Isla Sorna. You crazy bastard." _

_Quentin Bellamy shifted uneasily as Bram Carroll decided they were already on friendly terms._

_"I can't believe I'm going to see a living, breathing dinosaur. I just can't believe it!" Bram clapped his hands together once, and then cracked his knuckles. He was dressed in cargo pants, a black t-shirt and tan hiking boots. ___An odd ensemble___, Quentin thought. ___Probably what he assumes people who go outside and actually do things for a living wear. __

_"I'm just as excited, believe me. I've been planning this trip for a long time… and when this movie comes out, well, I might be just as well off as you, Bram." Quentin gave a laugh. "This documentary is going to be the most important scientific film known the man. Nobody is allowed on Sorna, nobody can see these creatures. Everybody on the planet will be dying to see real life footage of dinosaurs. Not only that, but by the time this is all said and done, my film will shed light on just what happened to InGen." Quentin got lost in himself just saying the words aloud._

_"Just don't forget that you couldn't have done it without my help when you're rich and famous, Mr. Bellamy."_

_"As long as you don't forget who asked who to come along this trip, Mr. Carroll."_

_Quentin was a distinguished documentary maker, earning several awards for a film he made about the misconceptions of the Great White Shark, "The Great White Myth." After reports of InGen's doings on its two owned islands, Quentin became ravenous over the idea of filming a documentary on living, prehistoric animals. He was able to gather some intel after InGen went bankrupt and dissolved, being no company left to keep the survivors silent. While all the major players declined to be interviewed, some of the random, lower level staff agreed upon a future meeting. He learned all he could from hiring private investigators and reading any books put out by the survivors of the incidents. He eventually got his hands on maps of Isla Sorna, as well as a list of dinosaurs that once and presumably still lived there. Years of preparation, and he was finally two hours away._

_Heather Dunham stood at the bow of the ship, watching the waves crash against its hull. She was pretty in an unconventional way. She had blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and a fairly athletic build. Australia keeps you on your toes, or face down in the dirt, she'd always say. She made an effort to work out five days out of the week to maintain her physique and stamina. She'd casually chatted with Carol and Dan, the two animal control experts, about their slightly similar lines of work. The number of animal experts on this trip made her feel both safe and uneasy at the same time. She'd also briefly spoken to Quentin and Mr. Carroll, both eccentrics in their own right. Heather glanced back and saw the two men talking. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this entire situation, but it excited her none the less. Either way, she preferred to sit the trip alone and mentally prepare for what awaited just an hour or so away._

_"Weather's getting choppy!" Fernando shouted over the intercom from the captain's cabin. "When I drop you into the water, it's going to be rough!"_

_The plan was to get close enough to Isla Sorna as to not disturb any waterway restrictions. A big ship like the Humboldt might trigger some radar; but the various medium-sized speedboats that were ready to be dropped into the ocean could sneak right past. All of the equipment would be loaded and passengers would fit onto two of these boats, and land on the beach. After that, they would set up camp, stay on the island for five days, and then take the boats back to the Humboldt in the exact same spot, at the exact same time._

_Quentin shot a thumbs up to the captain. He figured something like this would happen – and he was ready for it. A boat ride across some waves was nothing compared to the dangers of that island. He was also ready for that. At least, he hoped so._

_An hour later, the mountains of Isla Sorna started to take form on the horizon. The boat slowed to a stop, and it was time to depart. "Thursday, 6:30 p.m. I will be here for an hour. If your watches break, or are lost, just remember; When the sun is this low on the horizon, come back here. I will be waiting. One hour!" The captain gave his orders. T_

_he team nervously stepped onto the hanging speedboats, and then were lowered into the churning ocean. Heather captained one along with Dan and Carol, while Quentin manned the boat that was meant for himself, Mr. Carroll and Dr. Hanson. _

__I hope you get here, Leigh. I could really use your help here, ___he thought to himself as he drove forward, the boat crashing through the waves toward the tropical island._


End file.
